


dance with me (make me sway)

by FateChica



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cute, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, cuties being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 12:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateChica/pseuds/FateChica
Summary: Of all the things in his life, it's the little things that get to him the most.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 11
Kudos: 111





	dance with me (make me sway)

**Author's Note:**

> I left more detailed notes on my tumblr post, but today, November 17th, is two years to the day since I posted the first chapter of "love you like a love song". So, today's my official 2-year anniversary of being part of this fandom and I wanted to do something to celebrate it.
> 
> This is for all of you, for all of the love and support you've given me over the past couple of years. Here's to many more years and I can't wait to experience them with you!

Every day feels like he’s living a dream, one he never wants to wake up from. He knows it’s not a dream, though. It took too much hard work to get here – too much blood and sweat and tears, too much back and forth, coming together before being pulled apart, repeating this what felt like over and over again. 

But they’re here now – they _ made _ it – and he never has to dream ever again. Because, every day, he wakes up to his dream. Because, every day, he wakes up and goes about his day and comes home to his wife. 

_ Because every day, Mike comes home to El. _

It’s not perfect. Nothing is, after all. Both Mike and El are headstrong, passionate individuals and sometimes things get heated, intense in the wrong way. But the love they feel for each other smooths out all those speed bumps and, more often than not, helps them channel their stronger impulses into something positive. It helps them love each other just that much more, helps them love each other each and every day. 

There’s nothing special about today except that every day Mike spends with El is special, each one better than the last. Each time, he thinks _ this is it, I can’t be any more in love with her than I am right now. _ And _ every. single. day. _ he falls just that much more in love with El, falls in love with her all over again. 

It’s almost never something big that makes him realize this – the way she smiles at him when he greets her after he gets home, the way she laces her fingers through his as they head up to bed at the end of the evening, the way she laughs and talks and just exists with him. 

Tonight, it’s the way she’s standing at the sink while she does the dishes. He cooked tonight, so by the agreement they came to when they moved in together several years ago, it’s her turn to do the dishes. 

El’s standing at the sink, weight mostly resting on one leg, hair up in a loose bun with wisps falling to frame her face and neck. She’s wearing a loose sweater, neckline slipping down to expose the smooth curve of one shoulder, and a pair of leggings that skim tight to the lines of her legs. One bare foot is firmly planted on the ground, while the other is propped against it, heel resting on her ankle, foot arched almost sensually. 

But, the thing that Mike notices most of all as he walks into the kitchen, the last of the dinner dishes in hand, is the way El is swaying to the music that’s playing. 

El always has the music playing while she does the dishes and today is no exception. Today’s selection is from the local Oldies radio station, airwaves filling the kitchen with the sounds of Big Band and jazz and the Rat Pack. 

The rich sounds of Frank Sinatra are starting to fade out, Mike recognizing the final notes of “Fly Me To The Moon”, as he sets the last couple plates on the counter next to El. Her proximity calls to him with its sweet, siren’s song and Mike’s barely able to set the dishes down before his arms are reaching for her, sliding around her waist as he pulls her to him, body molding to hers. He buries his face against her neck and breathes in the sweet scent of her. The feel of her skin against his is the one of the greatest rushes known to man and he’s like a drug addict, forever chasing the high that he can only get from her. 

El leans back against him, back curving to mirror the lean of his body. “Hi,” she breathes just loud enough to be heard over the running water. 

The feel of El in his arms is the cure for pretty much _ everything, _ even if nothing is wrong, and Mike finds himself burrowing deeper into her, holding her tight. He never wants to let her go. “Hi,” he murmurs against El’s neck, head rotating so he can press a lingering kiss on the skin right beneath her jaw.

El shivers at the press of his lips and Mike tries to hold back the grin that threatens to creep onto his face. She’s _ so responsive _ – always has been – and it makes him a little eager, _ impatient, _ to eventually move upstairs to their bedroom. _ All things in due time, _ he thinks as El breathes in deeply. “I’m trying to do the dishes,” she says in weak admonishment. 

“I can see that,” Mike says, losing the battle against keeping the grin off his face. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

El’s breath leaves her in a huffed sigh. “You’re gonna, anyway,” she mumbles. 

That pulls a laugh from him, low and husky, and Mike starts to sway with the music that surrounds them, emanating from the old radio perched on the windowsill above the sink. “You know me too well,” Mike says, still barely above a murmur. 

“Well, it’s only been 11 years,” El says with a barely contained snort. 

“Hmm, good point,” Mike says as he nuzzles into her neck, breathing her in deep, lungs filling with the lingering scent of her perfume, mixing potently with the remaining hints of her shampoo and something that is just so fundamentally _ El, _ soft and addicting. He’s been trying for years to figure out _ what _ it is and he knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life trying to crack that particular mystery (it doesn’t matter if he succeeds – not at all. All that matters is that she’s here for him to try and solve it.).

The song on the radio changes, starting with a simple piano intro, and Mike’s heart skips a beat as he recognizes the song. His arms untangle from around El’s waist, hands sliding to her hips to pull her away from the sink, soft need filling every inch of him. 

El lets him pull her away from the sink, but not without a soft whine in the process. “Mike, the dishes.”

“They’re not going anywhere,” Mike rasps, a chuckle in his voice. “Dance with me.” 

El sighs, but he knows he has her as she takes his hand, the other sliding up to curve over his shoulder. _ “Mike,” _ she admonishes, but it lacks true strength. This isn’t the first time Mike’s done this and it certainly won’t be the last. 

El’s hand in his is warm and wet from the water still trickling into the sink, a little slippery from the dish soap, but Mike thinks it’s perfect as Elvis’ voice begins to croon from the radio. _ “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you….” _

The look in El’s eyes is warm and rich, amber-flecked irises darting back and forth as her gaze dances across his face. Her cheeks are gently flushed, suffusing the light tan of her skin with the prettiest pink Mike’s ever seen, and her perfect, richly full lips are curved in an enticing smile. _ God, _ Mike doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He wonders this every day and he’s never been able to figure it out. The only thing he can chalk it up to is the only streak of luck he’s ever had in his entire life. 

_ (he doesn’t know this, not **really**, but it’s not luck. el knows it’s because he was the first person who never judged her, the first person who gave her a home and a name and a place to **belong**, the only person who’s ever really understood her. it’s a gift she can never, **ever** repay and she will spend the rest of her life making sure he knows how much she loves him for the simple, yet overwhelming kindness he’s given her.) _

But, for the moment, there’s just them, the warm light of their kitchen, and the dulcet, crooning tones of Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” as they sway back and forth in the middle of their kitchen. El’s warm in his arms, smiling up at him like he’s all she’ll ever need, and Mike’s heart resumes its daily attempt to beat its way out of his chest. The feel of her in his arms is _ everything, _ more than he could have ever imagined, more than he ever could have hoped for, and he will forever be grateful to have her in his life, to have her with _ him. _

_ “Take my hand, take my whole life too,” _ comes the voice from the radio and Mike can’t help but be hyper aware of El’s hand in his, the smooth metal of her wedding band digging into where their fingers are interlaced, a poignant reminder of the promise they made to each other, ‘til death do they part, as long as they both shall live – the way it’s been since he first found her in the rain, even if he didn’t know it at the time. 

He’s leaning towards her before he’s even fully aware that he’s doing it, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to care that he’s permanently and irreversibly caught in her gravity well with no exit velocity. But it’s ok because El’s leaning up towards him, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that sets his whole soul aflame. Her lips are soft against his, soft and lush and full, like heaven against his. Her kiss is the only one Mike’s ever known and he never wants to know any other for the rest of his life. 

The sound of El’s whimpering gasp as he kisses her sends a warm shiver down his spine, heat pooling low in his belly, and Mike kisses El that much harder, the eternal love and desire he feels for her needing an outlet, one his mouth is more than eager to provide. She kisses him back, lips soft yet firm against his, and Mike’s soul just _ soars. _ Every time he kisses her is a little like the first time, pulse racing and skin thrumming, and Mike realizes, as he has every day of his life, that El is the only person for him, the only one he wants for as long as he lives. 

And he’ll never, _ ever _ regret it. 

They stand there, kissing in the kitchen as they sway to the radio, bodies pressed against each other like they were meant to fit together. Soon, El will shut off the water and take both of Mike’s hands in hers before guiding him towards the stairs, dishes forgotten as they get swept up in each other. 

But, right now, there’s just them, the gentle music that surrounds them, and the overwhelming love they share for each other. 

For the moment, in this endless moment full of nothing but the love they share for each other, it’s enough. 

And it always, _ always _ will be. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love you all so very, _very_ much.


End file.
